


Into the Ocean

by VulcanKissesHuman



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), spirk - Fandom
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt Spock, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Jim, Star Trek: AOS, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulcanKissesHuman/pseuds/VulcanKissesHuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim saves Spock from drowning on the water planet of Tredia. A short story that I wrote from a prompt on tumblr, where someone wanted me to write hurt!spock. I consider it a honor to write compassionate and intelligent kirk, quietly pining spock, and a angsty plot with a happy ending. hurt/comfort</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Edges of the Day

**Author's Note:**

> i completely made up the Tredians/Tredia. 
> 
> also if you're interested to read more of my works/ask questions/find out what i'm up to in my next fic, you can follow me on tumblr at http://vulcankisseshuman.tumblr.com/i also put up pictures of kirk and spock daily, which you know, is reason enough to follow. :)

Tredia was wet. It was obvious from the science reports that Spock had handed Jim and the mission briefing he had been given from Starfleet, but looking at the precipitation percentage and water vs. landmass was different than beaming down and being surrounded by it.

Jim blinked as they materialized on the shore of a vast ocean. A soft mist was falling at a dreary sort of pace, seeping into his skin. He glanced around the area, alert in case of danger. Starfleet had made it sound like an easy diplomacy mission, apparently all Jim needed to do was confirm Tredia’s intentions to become permanent members of the Federation. However, Jim had done his own research about the tiny wet planet and knew the Tredians could get difficult if insulted.

He looked over at Uhura, who was speaking quietly to Spock. Despite their differences Jim was glad he brought her, she could probably arrange a garden tea party with feuding Romulans what with her cultural sensitivity skills, and she also had excellent aim if things went bad. Jim sighed, he was being pessimistic about the mission and Bones wasn’t even with him. It was probably the climate. Tredia seemed to be permanently raining, the sky a gray twilight, the air chilly. Tredian atmosphere was known for storms, even with it being fairly decent right now it still prevented them from getting accurate beaming signals. It had taken all morning to get the transporter stable enough to beam the crew down during a pocket of quiet weather.

Jim looked up, noticing a small group of Tredians assembling a distance away, at the base of a dark massive cliff. Most of the Tredians wore the ornamental headdresses of Tredia advisors and plain gray robes. With a nod to his landing party, Jim began to walk towards the group. His boots crunched against the ground with each step. Tredia was almost entirely ocean and rocks, their beaches covered with finely ground pebbles that were a dark blue, almost black color and sharp enough that Jim was glad for the thick soles of his boots.

 _“We are pleased to meet you, heir to the Federation,”_ The Tredian in the center of the waiting party spoke as Jim stopped a few feet away.

The Tredian leader’s voice was monotonous, the six slits he had for nostrils widening slightly as he inhaled. The Tredians looked vaguely human, though their slender bodies were quite tall. Their skin was a silvery-white and much thicker and rougher than human skin, it looked almost like a lightly scaled hide. They were also completely hairless. At first glance their most obvious feature was that they didn’t have noses or ears, just slits, their eyes were human shaped and a beautiful vivid purple.

Jim knelt carefully on the stone ground, wincing as rocks dug into his knees.

 _“We are honored, heir to the Kingdom,”_ He responded in Tredian, the words slippery on his tongue.

He felt Uhura shift behind him and he resisted the urge to smile at what he was sure a look of surprise from her. The Tredians also seemed surprised but suitably impressed and Jim felt his shoulders relax slightly. Keeping standoffish diplomats pleased was always a good thing.

He stood after a pause and gestured with his hand in the Tredian curved motion that displayed goodwill.

“My crewmembers are eager to meet and speak with you,” Jim declared, wanting to smile again at the look one of his security officers shot him.

The security officers didn’t look remotely pleased to be there and Scotty was glancing around with obvious impatience to get back to the Enterprise. Jim watched Uhura subtly touch the engineer’s wrist and Scotty stilled. They exchanged a look that Jim had to smile at a bit, before glancing over at his first officer.

Spock and Uhura had broken up seven months ago and it was obvious that she and Scotty had something going on. Spock didn’t seem too fazed one way or another about it. He returned Jim’s stare with his own calm gaze, though Jim was sure Spock would have raised a slanted eyebrow, if they were back on the Enterprise.

Jim fought down the smile that threatened to escape and turned to face the Tredians who were regarding each of them carefully. A few of the men in the group cast admiring and curious looks at Uhura’s long sleek ponytail and darker skin, but none seemed concerned about Spock’s Vulcan appearance. Jim breathed another sigh of relief.

There were always places that weren’t welcoming to nonhumans. And there had been several away missions where Spock had been ridiculed, lusted after, or threatened for his pointed ears and green blood. Those missions never seemed to go well, mostly because Jim had to step in and try to educate, sometimes with a phaser if things got hostile towards Spock. Of course it usually meant that Spock reprimanded him back on board the Enterprise, or stopped talking to him for a day or two, but Jim knew that in his own way the Vulcan didn’t mind. Despite arguing to do so, Spock never told Starfleet about how many potential Federation members were lost due to Jim’s intolerance of bigotry.

_“We of the water meet you of the dirt. Come, assemble with us.”_

The lead Tredian spoke ceremonially, the words coming out a bit odd but Jim nodded his head. He couldn’t be responsible for what the universal translator said and honestly, Earth had a lot more dirt than Tredia. He offered a small grin to a security officer who had looked a little affronted by the Tredian’s wording. She responded with a sheepish smile and Jim gestured his crew forward.

They walked across the rocky beach, Jim looking upwards at the sheer black cliffs they were moving towards. He could see Spock out of the corner of his eye, the Vulcan as expressionless as always but Jim knew that Spock was torn between wanting to pull out a tricorder to scan everything or huddling deeper into his coat. Jim smiled slightly, proud that he could read Spock more clearly now. They stopped in front of the cliff face, the Tredian leader extended a hand, pressing his palm against the unyielding rock. With a grinding sound the rockface slid away, revealing an opening.

“We walk where water does not touch,” A slender male Tredian offered to them in standard, glancing at Jim, his purple eyes lingering on Jim’s wheat colored hair before moving downwards, eyes trailing across the captain’s command tunic before the Tredian looked away.

The once-over felt a bit weird, all things considered, but Jim let it go. At one time that look would have been all it took for him to approach the man. He had no qualms about species or gender when it came to that sort of thing. But it was stupid to hook up on an away mission and to be honest Jim hadn’t really hooked up since he was at the Academy. He had probably the longest record of celibacy for a captain, though probably the biggest rumored reputation that said otherwise.

He glanced over at Spock who had moved a step closer to him. The Vulcan was evidently trying hard not to shiver and Jim felt a burst of concern. The temperature was downright uncomfortable for him, he had no idea how Spock was dealing with it. Compared to Vulcan, Tredia had to be freezing, not to mention extremely soggy, Jim thought ruefully as they stepped through the narrow doorway. He pushed a hand through his wet hair and grinned at Uhura who was attempting to wring the water out of her ponytail. She shot him a look back but didn’t say anything as they were herded into a tiny round room and then led up stone cut stairs that circled the edges of the room.

The Tredians seemed to have excellent night vision, as the place was barely lit. Air ventilation of some kind existed because a soft breeze was flowing around them, but it didn’t help the slightly claustrophobic sensation Jim had. The stairs were narrow and compressed without any type of safety rail. They wound upwards for forever and Jim shifted forwards a bit to climb near a Tredian.

“Do you live inside the cliffs?” he asked politely.

The Tredian clicked its tongue.

“Yes of course,” The voice was female and authoritative, _“We have few options, when the water comes in at the edges of the day, only the cliffs remain.”_

The oddly poetic statement took awhile for Jim’s translator to interpret but he registered that she was referring to a tide.

“You are from Earth?” the woman asked in standard and Jim responded with a murmured affirmative, knowing she wouldn’t catch his nod in the near darkness.

He shivered, his damp clothes unable to dry in the chilly air, though the Tredians didn’t seem to mind being constantly wet.

“Earth was once prized for its water,” the woman declared, “but it does not compare to Tredia.”

“No,” Jim replied, pressing closer to the inside stone wall and trying to focus on his steps in the darkness, “it doesn’t.”

Privately, he found Earth a lot more comforting. Tredia was literally only rock and water, and by the sound of it when the tides came in it was mostly water.

“And your officer with the pointed ears, is his homeworld not prized for water?” she asked suddenly and out of the darkness Jim felt more than saw Spock turn his head towards them.

“Um, well, Vulcans live in dry hot climates.” Jim responded, not really wanting to bring up the subject of Spock’s homeworld. A noise came near him and he recognized it as some sort of laugh.

“Forgive me,” a male Tredian spoke and Jim recognized it as the one who had checked him out earlier, “Such a thing is unheard of. Dryness? How does he survive?”

“Oh, Vulcans are really adaptable,” Jim said, and couldn’t help the admiration in his voice.

He had quite a respect for Spock’s rapid adjustments to the various environments and climates that they ended up in. And judging from what he had gleaned from conversations with Spock’s counterpart, adaptability was something of a personality trait of Spock’s.

 _“To live in dryness is to be ignorant to that which is life,”_ another Tredian informed them and Jim felt a rush of anger.

It was followed by gratitude as Uhura jumped into the conversation, explaining the cultural and physiological differences between species so eloquently that the Tredians were soon humming in approval of her communication skills.

Jim grinned, slowing his steps so that he was now climbing next to Spock, his legs burning from the repetitive exercise as they continued up the endless staircase.

“Are you cold?” he asked quietly and felt Spock shift near him.

“Negative, Captain.”

The voice was calm and assured, but there was a softness there that Jim could feel. He reached out, patting the Vulcan’s arm, his fingers brushing against the damp coat sleeve,

“Well I’m freezing,” he remarked lightly, dropping his hand away and continuing to climb.

 

* * * * *

 

It felt like hours before they reached their destination, which turned out to be a bunch of interlocking rooms. There was no furniture and hardly any more light then there had been on the stairs, but it was impressive that the Tredians had been able to carve so much out inside a cliff. The Tredians settled cross-legged on the floor and Jim did as well.

They formed a circle, the Tredian advisers on one side, Jim and his landing crew on the other. He quickly looked over at his crew, one of his security officers, Ensign Hathor, looked bored, but the other one, Ensign Richards, was obviously showing interest now, her eyes bright as she surveyed the room. Uhura was seated politely, her expression calm. She sat close to Scotty who remarkably didn’t look like he missed the ship at all. Jim lifted his eyebrows slightly at the man but Scotty blinked innocently, as if he hadn’t been complaining all morning about beaming down to ‘ah hellish place that dinna have drinks or engines.’ Apparently Uhura more than made up for that.

His gaze fell on his first officer who sat with perfect posture, calmly watching him. Spock titled his head slightly to the side, his short bangs damp with the moisture that remained a constant on Tredia. They exchanged a long look and Jim could feel Spock’s focus on him, channeling concerns about the mission and a strong dislike of the cold, despite his blank face. Jim grinned and turned back to face the Tredians who regarded them placidly.

“We have considered your offer of a more permanent Federation status, but we have not yet met in agreement. As is our way, our advisers,” the leader gestured gravely to the Tredians surrounding him, “have one final discussion to commence.”

Jim nodded. Uhura had mentioned in her report that the Tredian advisers always met three times to discuss something before making a final decision. He waited and another Tredian spoke, her voice identifying her as the woman who he had talked to on the stairs.

“When the night meal is finished, we shall impart our decision. For now, please feel free to walk among us. You are explorers, we are told.”

It may have been humor, or possibly sarcasm, but her voice had little inflection and Jim responded with another nod.


	2. The Syl-li

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Syl-li is Tredian for 'one who is not needed'

The Tredians were quiet and remote, but not exactly unfriendly. Jim and his crew moved through various rooms, encountering many other Tredians whose hairless skin gleamed with wetness. Jim wondered absentmindedly why they bothered to wear clothes at all if they were always going to be damp, but he appreciated that they did. Nudity, he could probably deal with but he wasn’t sure how the rest of the crew would handle it. Spock would have been more than a little uncomfortable.

At the thought of his first officer Jim turned to look for the Vulcan. The room he was in held mostly Tredians, though he glimpsed Ensign Richards over by a window, engaged in deep conversation with a Tredian. She had minored in marine biology and almost went into sciences, he recalled from her file. Well at least someone seemed to be having a good time. He personally still hadn’t warmed up and he was starting to worry about Spock. He knew that Spock would rather pass out from the cold than confess that he wasn’t feeling well, so it wouldn’t hurt to check up on his first officer.

Jim felt a small smile form but pushed aside the thoughts that came with it. The last thing he wanted to do on a mission was to acknowledge that what he felt for Spock wasn’t completely platonic. He would face those thoughts when he had to; right now he had to keep his mind on his job.

He stopped suddenly as another Tredian approached him.

“Heir of the Federation,” the Tredian murmured and Jim recognized him immediately as the one who had shown an interest in him earlier.

He offered a polite smile, wanting to go look for Spock but not wanting to offend the Tredian.

“You are uncomfortable here.” The Tredian stated, his eyes skimming Jim’s body.

Jim forced another smile. He couldn’t really blame the Tredian for expressing interest, and the man wasn’t being overly obscene about it, but still, it was getting weird. He did not want to learn through first hand experience how to delicately handle a proposition from a Tredian.

“Well, I’m still adjusting to the climate,” he said lightly.

The Tredian nodded and moved to speak but stopped, edging away as Spock came into the room. Jim blinked. Spock’s face was completely blank but it was clear he was agitated by how rapidly he moved across the room towards Jim.

“Captain,” Spock said, his voice displaying a subtle tension that immediately had Jim on full alert, “I must speak with you.”

“Right.” Jim responded sharply, following Spock without thinking.

They left the room, slipping into another one and than through the first room they had been in and out unto the stairs.

“Spock, what’s wrong?” Jim demanded, concerned at Spock’s sudden intensity.

Spock moved in the dark, turning to face him.

“Captain, I have discovered that the Tredians practice eugenics.”

“What?!” Jim exclaimed, shock flooding him.

 _That_ had definitely not been in his report.

“How-how do you know?” He stumbled over his words.

Eugenics was one of the most disgusting concepts he had ever heard of and it had almost ruined Earth in a global war a couple centuries ago. The Federation had strict policies about cultures that supported such beliefs and there was no way the Tredians could be accepted members if they believed in eugenics.

Spock’s head tilted towards him, the Vulcan’s breath warm, his body trembling very faintly with cold, despite being heavy bundled in his thick coat.

“I overheard their leader and another Tredian discussing the removal of an ill Tredian.”

Removal? Jim felt his stomach clench with sudden nausea.

“They didn’t…kill…” his voice trailed off and he straightened, determined to hear whatever answer Spock gave him.

His first officer was only a shape in the darkness but he could see Spock was still upset, or as upset as a Vulcan was capable of showing.

“I believe that is their intention. However, they have not yet done so.”

Jim reached out and grabbed Spock’s forearm, needing something, anything, to keep his mind clear,

“Okay, I’ll think of a excuse, you grab the sick Tredian and we’ll beam back to the Enterprise.”

Spock shook his head.

“We do not have the time,” he murmured.

A warm palm glided over Jim’s knuckles for a moment, jumping slightly at the contact of skin, than circling around his wrist in a surprisingly gentle grip. Without a word Spock moved back into the room they had come from. He half-led, half-pulled Jim over to a carved out window. Across the room, Jim saw Uhura stop in mid-discussion with the Tredian leader, staring in open surprise at Spock’s uncharacteristic behavior.

What was happening in the room fell out of Jim’s mind as he looked out of the window at the inky blue shoreline and the rising cerulean waves. A thin, naked Tredian lie on a small raised part of the rocky shore. For a horrible moment Jim thought the man was dead, but the Tredian suddenly moved faintly, attempting to sit up and crawl, only to collapse again. The tide was coming in, lapping close to where the Tredian lie and beginning to surround the raised area.

“They have abandoned him to the elements, not unlike the Surgifins do to their young, or the indigenous tribes of Earth once did to their elders.”

Spock’s voice was even, but looking at him in clearer lighting Jim saw the slight crease between the Vulcan’s brows, his first officer’s face intent, dark brown eyes staring at the scene below them.

“Spock, we’ve got to do something!” Jim hissed.

Uhura had moved next to him now, looking out through the window. She clapped a hand to her mouth.

“Is that a –”

Her horrified whisper was cut short as the low monotone of the Tredian Elder came behind them.

“I see you have noticed a _syl-li_. The water is a blessing to those too frail for life.”

Jim spun around.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he demanded loudly.

The elder regarded him blankly, blinking slightly at Jim’s outburst.

“It is our way,” he stated simply.

Jim bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, his heart pounding as his temper flared. 

“You can’t throw away someone’s life like that!” 

He felt Uhura shift to stand besides him, dark eyes flashing as she spoke in rapid Tredian. It was clear she was trying to explain the situation, but the Tredian leader shook his head.

“It is our way,” he repeated. 

Jim’s hands clenched into fists. He glimpsed other Tredians slipping into the room, Scotty and the security officers following.

“Is it the _syl-li_?” the bland tone of one of the Tredians came from the small group that had formed.

Jim ground his teeth.

“You can call it whatever you want, but drowning someone, no matter how sick they are, is murder.”

The Tredian leader’s hands fluttered, he pulled himself upright.

“It is what is best for society!”

He sounded faintly insulted but Jim was past caring how offended the man was, or how much Starfleet wanted the Tredians permanent membership. He opened his mouth when Uhura gasped behind him,

“Where’s Spock?”

Jim froze, scanning the room instantly. His stomach tightened. He swore and dashed for the stairs. One of the Tredians attempted to stop him but Jim struck out, knocking the man to the side with a blow to the jaw and pounding down the stone steps leading out to where the ill Tredian lie, where Spock must have gone.

It was dark and one misstep or stumble could send him spiraling to his death but it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting to Spock before the tide did. He could hear his crew calling from behind him, but it was all useless noise. His heart hammered in his chest, Jim gasping in air as he leapt down more stairs. The sound of rushing water reached his ears and sped him onwards.

It was almost too dark to see the faint shape, Jim staggered to a halt, hands briefly flailing for balance before bending over the wet form on the stairs. It was too thin to be Spock, a faint cough came, confirming that it was the sick Tredian. Jim looked up. In the darkness the outline of a hole in the wall was visible. The stone door had been wrenched open, a feat only possible through inhuman strength.

“Spock!” Jim yelled, but there was no response.

The water was pushing through the open door, rising higher as the tide came in with a vengeance unseen in Earthen tides.

“Captain!”

Uhura was close behind him. Jim bit his lip, hesitating only for a second.

“Uhura, take this Tredian and get the Enterprise to beam you and the crew out.”

“Jim, you can’t-“ Uhura started, voice rough with unshed tears.

Jim shook his head, pounding down the last steps, water seeping over the top of his boots. He flung himself into the pulling current, ignoring Uhura’s cry. Spock was the only thing he could think about.

The water was strong against Jim’s body and so cold that he could only gasp frantically for relief. He tried to search the area, but it was impossible. He swam towards the door, his arms already stinging as his muscles fought to move against the current. Spock must have been washed outside.

It was darker out, the sky brewing with a storm, rain pelting at him. The rocky ground that he had walked on hours before was far beneath his kicking feet as he swam into the roiling ocean. Jim dove down, forcing his eyes open to try to glimpse anything that might be Spock. When he broke the surface it was with a terrified gasp. The water was cold enough that Spock would die from hypothermia in a matter of minutes. Jim didn’t even know if Spock could swim, most Vulcans had little reason to learn. He clenched his chattering teeth together, forcing himself onwards, pushing against the onslaught of water.

A flash of something caught his eye, a distant splash. Jim surged forward, hands knifing the icy water. _Get to Spock_ , his mind chanted over and over, _get to Spock._ He dove underwater, eyes widening as he glimpsed a shape in the crashing blue. It thrashed slightly, struggling to stay afloat.

 _Spock._ Jim raced towards it, his heart clenching, panicking as the figure’s struggling stilled, the body slipping downwards. Jim clawed at the water, frantically pushing faster, harder, numb to everything but Spock’s falling body. Jim was there, diving further, hands grabbing unto Spock’s coat, scrabbling to get a hold and pull. Even with the buoyancy of water Spock was too heavy, his Vulcan bone density weighing them both down. Jim tugged desperately, his lungs burning. Spock’s closed eyelids suddenly fluttered and Jim struggled harder to pull upwards, to get them to the surface so they could breathe.

Spock’s eyes opened fully now, his face blurred underwater. He was attempting to move, to tread water, but Jim’s panic erupted further as he realized Spock could not, his strong, tireless first officer was too weak now to move. The cold water killing what a phaser blast to the chest could not.

Jim kicked his own legs hard, his chest tight, lungs on fire. Spock moved, one hand rising and Jim reached for it but Spock was pushing him away with what little strength he had left. The Vulcan’s head shook in silent refusal, eyes fluttering closed and Jim couldn’t. He would not leave Spock.

He lunged forward, grabbing the man’s coat again, yanking until the fabric threatened to rip. Inch by inch he fought towards the surface, Spock limp in his hold. Jim’s own body was desperate to breathe but he clenched his jaw, willing himself upwards.

He broke the surface coughing, frantically trying to keep Spock’s face above water, the Vulcan’s head lulled forward and Jim gasped out pleas, shaking Spock, letting the water tug at them, push them where ever it needed to, no longer caring where they were taken.

Spock’s body weighed in his hold but Jim clung tighter, using all his strength to keep the man afloat. He spared a glance back towards the cliffs. The open door was now completely covered and though they were close enough he could make it, there was no way he could drag Spock there.

A crack of thunder came, the rain pouring down so he could hardly see. Jim treaded water, coughing and shuddering, the iciness seeping into his lungs.

“Spock!” he gasped, “please, Spock!”

Spock was sinking into the water and Jim swore weakly, trying to keep him upright even though his own body was tired, so tired and cold. A tingling sensation was flooding through his skin, water surrounding him until suddenly it was not.

The knowledge that they had transported, that they were on board the Enterprise now and Bones was running towards them did not matter. Spock mattered. Jim rolled the Vulcan’s slender body on his back, frantically feeling for a pulse, lashing out when Bones dropped down besides him and tried to push Jim’s hand away.

“Jim! Jim calm down, you’re alright, you’re safe,” Bones reassured him breathlessly but Jim fought him anyway, shoving Bones aside and trying to coordinate his numb hands to press at Spock’s chest and side, to attempt resuscitation.

But he could barely see, his vision spiraling downwards, his breaths coming in sobs as he tried to help Spock. He tried…


	3. Saving Spock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finished!!!! please review and let me know what you think, as i really wanted to write vulnerable spock, but am not so sure how it went.

“If you ever, and I mean _ever_ pull a stupid stunt like that again, I will keep you in Sickbay long enough for you to grow mold,” Bones declared, bending over Jim and flashing a bright light in his barely open eyes.

Jim flinched away.

“Bones, that’s gross,” he whispered tiredly.

Bones glared at him, stabbing something into his PADD before straightening up from the biobed Jim was lying on. Jim looked around the small sickbay, panicking as he suddenly remembered Spock’s stillness beneath his hands in the icy water.

“Spock! Is he —”

“Spock’s fine,” Bones snapped, pushing Jim down carefully, “and despite everything, so are you.”

Jim blinked up at him, his head swimming with exhaustion.

“I want to see him,” he demanded, his ‘captain voice’ ruined by the fact that he could barely get more than a faint whisper out, he was so exhausted.

Bones shook his head, moving around Jim’s bio bed to check a chart.

“You can’t. He’s sleeping right now, guess he went into some sort of healing trance the moment we resuscitated him.”

Jim sat up.

“You said he was fine!” he protested, and Bones heaved a sigh of frustration.

“As fine as to be expected, what with you two swimming around in freezing cold water for a crazy amount of time. Both of you should be dead or goddamn catatonic. Spock almost was. But he’s fine now. The scanners all say that you’ll be bossing each other around on the bridge in a few days, so just shut up and rest right now.”

Jim fell back against the pillows, brow wrinkling. He didn’t like not seeing Spock. Even if the Vulcan was asleep, he needed to make sure. They had come so close to drowning. Spock had pushed him away, had tried to let go. Jim’s jaw tightened. He was not going to let that happen again. If it meant keeping Spock away from even a drop of water, than he would. But than Spock had only left to save the Tredian…at the memory of it, Jim’s mind jumped to their aborted mission.

“Bones, what happened with the Tredian Spock saved?”

Bones turned back towards him, brown hair ruffled slightly as if he had been running hands through it, probably had, what with both Jim and Spock in Sickbay.

“He had Remsk`ait disease, damn painful, but it’s not fatal or untreatable. He would have recovered there too, if the Tredians weren’t a bunch of psychopathic —”

He cut off his own sentence and shook his head.

“Listen Jim, the Federation wants to know about this. Starfleet has sent half a dozen calls in the last five hours. The Tredians are throwing temper tantrums too, saying you’ve insulted their cultural customs. The Tredian you rescued is on the fence about testifying or even verifying the whole eugenics thing, but you know Starfleet will back you up, so if you even _think_ about going down there to sort this out with the Tredians, I will hypo you into a coma.”

Jim groaned, waving Bones away as the man bent over him, wielding a tricorder.

“Bones, you said I was fine. I really need to go file a report to Starfleet about this shit.”

Bones snorted, pushing away from the biobed and shaking a finger in Jim’s direction.

“That is one hell of a lousy excuse from you, Jim. What you need is rest. And you’re going to get it, in Sickbay, not in your quarters stressing about all this.”

Jim tried to protest, but it didn’t help that his eyes were closing, his body wanting to curl up underneath the warm blankets and sleep for a century. 

 

* * * * * * 

 

It was a day later when Jim was able to get to his quarters to file his report. He chewed on the edge of his stylus, trying to figure out how to word the whole fiasco on Tredia. Granted, the Tredians didn’t have much room to complain, considering their eugenics policy, but they thought they could get away with some sort of cultural practice bullshit. He threw his stylus back on his desk and stretched, wincing as still tender muscles tightened in his arms. He was perfectly okay accepting cultural differences but when it led to people being killed just because they weren’t ‘optimal members of society’, it wasn’t right. His door chimed suddenly and Jim dropped his arms.

“Come in,” he called.

The door slid open, Spock’s lithe form stepping in and stopping a few feet from the door.

“Spock!” Jim exclaimed, rising out of his chair and rounding the desk, “Bones didn’t tell me you were released yet.”

Spock clasped his hands behind his back.

“I woke earlier than he expected, Captain.”

The response wasn’t out of the ordinary, but Spock’s voice was marginally tighter, his expression so perfectly blank that Jim knew something was up.

“Are you alright? Is Starfleet being pushy about your report? I told them they had to wait until you were better and they —”

“Captain,” Spock intoned and Jim shut up.

In the soft lighting of his quarters Spock looked particularly forbidding, his eyes drilling into Jim’s.

“I wish to know why you risked your own life to attempt to find me.”

Jim stared at him, eyes narrowing at Spock’s clipped tone.

“I _did_ find you. And as you can see we’re both still standing, so —”

Again Spock interrupted him, stepping forward, his slender body radiating power so that it seemed impossible that he had been so weak in the water the day before, that Jim had been the only thing keeping him afloat.

“You are the captain of the Enterprise, you cannot abandon your health for the sake of another’s.”

“Like you didn’t do the same!” Jim snapped, unconsciously moving forward until they were almost toe-to-toe.

Spock’s eyebrows were drawn inwards slightly, his eyes burning.

“As a Vulcan I endeavor to preserve life, you, however, are a starship captain whose duty to his crew far outweighs—”

“What the hell, Spock!” Jim exclaimed, reeling back a step, “You _are_ my crew.”

He felt torn between anger and confusion, Spock wasn’t giving an inch and that bothered Jim. He had grown used to Spock’s quiet support and he wanted desperately to go back to that, that soft boundary of companionship where they knew each other better than anyone else. Where Spock only had to look at him and Jim felt complete, not broken and angry like he did now.

“And why the hell do you think I don’t endeavor to save lives? I saved yours —”

“That is not what I said,” Spock declared, but he glanced away for the first time and suddenly Jim saw it, that slight tremor of Spock’s jaw.

“You don’t think you’re worth it,” he whispered flatly.

Spock said nothing, remaining so motionless that Jim wanted to shake him or at least touch him.

“Spock,” he said and was surprised by how calm his voice sounded, “Spock you have to know how much you’re worth it to me.”

Spock’s eyes snapped back to his, Jim shook his head, he stepped forward and rested both his hands lightly on Spock’s upper arms,

“I will never stop saving you,” he said quietly, almost choking on the words with how much he meant them, how much Spock meant to him. “I couldn’t let you drown. I would have gone after you no matter what. I don’t care about Starfleet regulations or prime directives when it comes to you. You _know_ that.”

He gripped Spock’s shoulders harder, felt the Vulcan inhale slightly, Spock’s eyes wide and watching him.

Jim bent his head, watching Spock’s chest rise and fall faintly, remembering how only hours ago he had been desperate to see that same motion of breathing. His own breath left him.

“I don’t care that we’re officers, I – I won’t accept losing you because you don’t think you deserve to have a happy life.”

He shook his head again, forestalling any arguments as Spock opened his mouth. It seemed impossible to Jim that he should be talking about this, that he would speak of what he had barely acknowledged to himself, the feelings that he now felt for Spock and no one else. His hands fisted in Spock’s science blues,

“I would go after you Spock, every damn time, even if you weren’t my first officer and I wasn’t your captain.”

A trembling breath stirred his hair, Jim looked up, Spock was looking down at him, their faces so close. Spock’s hand came, his thumb suddenly brushing against Jim’s lower lip, his eyes dark.

“You will always be my captain,” he whispered, his voice low, rough in a way that Jim had never heard.

Spock’s hand fell away but they were still standing so close. Jim’s stomach felt full of warmth, his limbs shaking faintly. They were so close. He lifted his jaw slightly, eyes shutting as Spock’s head tilted, closing the distance between them. A warm mouth brushed his own, their lips barely touching before they pulled back slightly. Jim watched as Spock looked away, the Vulcan’s face suddenly so young, his cheeks and ears flushing a faint green.

Jim slid his hands down Spock’s arms, fingers brushing against Spock’s. His first officer looked back at him, the tenderness in his eyes almost more than Jim could bear. Hesitantly, Spock reached up, cupping the back of Jim’s head with one large slender hand. He pulled the man to him and Jim surged forward, kissing Spock hard. Spock was framing his face with both hands now, kissing him with complete focus, only pulling back to press his lips to Jim’s stubbled jaw and neck, each motion frantic, yet shy.

Jim ran a hand through Spock’s cap of black hair, feeling the silken texture of the longer strands on top, the furred texture of where it was cut shorter on the undersides and back of the scalp. Whatever it was that had happened, whatever it was that they did, he knew things had changed.

Spock had kissed him, was kissing him, the Vulcan shivering slightly in his arms, reminding Jim painfully of yesterday in the water. The unbearable cold, the limpness of Spock’s body, his fear and certainty that the Vulcan had died and he was alone. Spock broke away and Jim knew that he must have sensed Jim’s emotions through their touch. Jim reached for Spock.

“Let me hold you,” he whispered, “please let me hold you.”

Spock did not move but allowed Jim to wrap arms around him, to press his face into Spock’s shoulder, Jim felt Spock’s hand trace through his blonde hair, his first officer relaxing against him.

“I will not leave you, Jim.” Spock whispered.

Jim drew back. He knew that he couldn’t make Spock promise that. They were Starfleet officers, officers who were often in danger. Death could happen at anytime. he nodded anyway, reaching out and tugging lightly at Spock’s sleeve. Words were unimportant, words didn’t matter the way that Spock did, the way it felt to have Spock close to him.

They lay down on Jim’s thin bunk, disregarding the fact that they were both still in uniform, still wearing boots. Jim needed to have Spock near him after yesterday, and even more so, he knew that Spock needed it.

Lips sought his, a tongue probing lightly into Jim’s mouth before Spock pulled away, shifting down so that his head rested on Jim’s chest. Jim wrapped his arms around Spock’s shoulders, projecting as much calm and compassion as he could through his touch. Spock was still trembling faintly, exhaling noticeably. Jim held him, knowing that Spock was struggling to maintain control. The fact that Spock was allowing him to see such vulnerability was more than Jim had ever believed possible.

“You are like the ocean,” Spock finally said, his breath warm against Jim’s chest.

Jim looked down at the Vulcan, Spock’s eyes were closed, each word spoken carefully.

“Yesterday…in the water, when I had verified that I was dying, I…I felt regret for never speaking to you. Many times I have felt some level of your regard for me, but I convinced myself that I was unworthy of it.”

He looked up suddenly, his gaze meeting Jim’s openly.

“Jim, I was afraid. You consume me. You overpower my control; even logic cannot sway me when I allow you to influence me. You do not know how I have fought to remain distant and professional. I could not imagine you valued me as anything other than an exemplary first officer. I did not dare to. When…when I was dying I realized that I had ruined any and all opportunities, but I was grateful that you were safe, that you did not have to bear losing me to the extent that my counterpart bore the loss of his Jim Kirk. I regretted not telling you, for my own sake. I was and am drowning in what you are to me, my counterpart saw this, as did Nyota.”

“Spock…” Jim whispered but Spock closed his eyes, opening them after a long moment.

“Jim,” he said, his voice becoming firm and resolute, “the emotions that I feel for you are not something you can save me from.”

“No,” Jim breathed, reaching out to trace the line of Spock’s jaw with his thumb, “I don’t intend to.”

Spock’s dark brown eyes softened in response, his hand sliding over to rest on top of Jim’s.

“I am grateful,” he whispered, moving upwards so that their mouths met and held.


End file.
